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Fade Latoner
Fade Latoner Account: Linnatha Character name:'''Fade '''Sex: Female ' Race: ' Elf Class: Ranger ' Alignment: '''CN '''Deity of Worship':Rillifane with a special reverence for Shevarash Level:'''currenly 9 BACKGROUND Deep in the heart of the Velarswood, the woman sat, cradling the newborn babe in her arms. She looked up lovingly at her husband, "What shall we call her?" was the question in her eyes. The man closed his eyes, laying a hand on the childs head, a small furrow of concentration on his face. For years, he had done it in the small encampment of elvesi n the woods, hidden deep within the saftey of the trees. He would touch a babe, knowing almost instantly what their talents would be, their names, their future.Though, this one was different, this was his child, his only child. As the baby's life flashed before his eyes, a single tear slid down his cheek. He spoke quietly, turning his head from his wife; "Her name shall be Fade... for her light and childhood happiness shall fade as the light of the shining soon does each eve." The woman looked at the back of his head with concern, but knew better than to ask questions. The baby grew into a robust and happy child, running through the encampment and learning with the affinity that only an elven child can. Every day was met with wide eyed wonder. Open, freiendly and always greeting any and everyone, she was considered quick witted and sometimes michevious. As she watched her child grow, the woman nearly forgot why they called her Fade. Soon, Fade reached adolesence. She was considered a wild beauty, both in appearnace and in mind. Her hair was the color of sweet honey, her eyes the color of the greenest new pine. With a fair complexion and lush lips, her build was lean and fit. Her best feature, many would say, was her hand, long and delicously slender, her head framed with soft pointed ears. She kept her appearance up, braiding the front sections of hair so it hung behind herears and over her shoulders.She had let her hair grow to nearly her knees, pulling it up as she needed for bow practice. Her father doted on her, gifting her with her magical bow upon reaching her coming of age. The bow was more special than she ever would imagine, for it had been passed through the generations for as long as any could remember. She soon showed a great talent for such a tool, never once picking up a blade, but only the bow. Soon, she could move silently through the woods, the only sound being the soft twapping of bowstring, followed by the unsuspecting target falling swiftly. She had led a shelted lift however, and it did not surprise any of the camp elders when she began to question what was outside of the camp. One night, after all the others had retired to their tents except for Fade, her father, her friend who was called Bele, hawkmaster, and Bele's father, Fades father turned to her with pain in his eyes. "My most beloved daughter," he began, "I know you have wished for many years to go explore. I have selfishly not given you my blessing. I have seen what will befall you and have let that guid me." "Father," she said, "I know it is is a hard thing, and I would be lying if I said I was not curiuos, but I know the traditions of our people..." "Fade, hear me," her father interuppted, "It is time for me to be a father and not the seer." Her father smoothed her long hair back as he contniued. "and so, when Sehinine begins to lower, yourself, accompanied by Hawkmaster, shall set off to quench your questions. As it is tradition, you shall return to open arms when the time is right." The two fathers then rose, moving into the tents, packing their childrens belongings, and setting the packs, bows, blades and in Bele's case, leather hawk gloves, near the fire, before retiring. Tradition, as it stands, is quite the interesting thing. It determines life for each and every person. In Fades case, it stated none could watch her and her companion leave, to stifle the want of following after, protecting. It stated that if an adolescent was to leave, The pair waited in silence until the moon began to set, then stood, gathering gear and murmuring prayers before heading off to the west. Two tenday passed with nothing but trees. Soon Fade began to question her journey, until they saw, what neither had seen before, a large ruined tower.They moved silent, sneaking inside to peer at anything and everything, having never had seen anything like it before, not even knowing what it was called. They were peering into a closet with more fresh food than either had ever laid eyes on when Fade heard a muffled thud, followed by Bele slumping to her feet. She hardly registered the pool of blood spreading before she heard another thud and a pain in the back of her head, the ground rushing up to meet her before all went black. She awoke from a forced sleep in an awkard seated position, the taste of metal and blood nearly choking her. Her arms ached from being being chained tight to the wall behind her, her naked flesh decorated only with gooseflesh. She peered across, seeing Bele, much in the same position, and modestly tried to cover her exposed skin by bringiing her legs up as far as she could to her chest. As she moved, the chains rattled and two sets of leather clad legs soon came into veiw. She followed the legs up to ebony hands, then to a pair of faces much like hers, only black as pitch, pointed ears poking out of manes of snow white hair. They talked down at her, thrusting daggers in her face. As one shouted in the strange tongue, he kicked her in the ribs to prove his point. She paled in pain as she heard the ribs crack, strying to scream, the bit in her mouth turning her wail of protest into a soft keening waiil. The two drow kept shouting commands she did not understand. Then, after beating her until she was nearly as black as their skin and red s their crimson eyes, the drow growled impatiently and moved over to the now alert Bele. She watched in horror as they slid a dagger, dripping with venom up under one of the boys eye, the orb dislodging with a soft, bloody pop. They drow brought it over, screaming an order over her friends muffled wails of pain and he held the eye under her nose, releasing the bit so she could turn her head and release the bile that had risen in her mouth. She whimpered softly in elven that she did not understand, crying softly as the wto laughed, carving the boy apart. She watched as they peeled his scalp back from his head, disembowled him, flayed his flesh. His one remaining eye stared out at her throughout the torture and violent murder, fianlly merely looking blankly at her as his soul departed for Arvandor. She walked now with a limp, not from the heavy chains set around her ankles, but from the hobbling she received when caught during her first , last, and only escape attempt. She had caught the eye of that first tenday, a crimson haired drow, and he had left her unchained, naked and bleeding, off to bathe after he had ravaged her body brutally for hours. She had tried to run, despite the pain in her lower body, only to be caught, a log being forced between her legs, the same drow taking a warhammer and slamming it brutally against one ankle, breaking it cleanly in half. She was still however, despite the drow inflicted wounds, expected to wait on the men of the tower at their every whim, be it inside the bedroom or out. She lay every night, faded to a fragment of the whimsical child she one was, keeping her eyes low, watching with hatred as the crimson haired man walked with her fathers bow tucked up over one shoulder. She had become quiet, shy, withdrawn, scared. She awoke one morning to screams. Her scars had gotten so bad, that she hurriedly dressed in the long robe, gloves, and hood the drow made her wear as she went about her daily chores. She had grown accustomed to the screams of the ones the drow captured, tortured and murdered, but these were different. These were the screams of the drow themselves. She fled the room quietly and in confusion, only to see two quissier, dressed in fine elven made chainmail, rampaging through the tower, killing anything in their way. The first elf yelled to the second "Nashu'ka, clear the rooms." Nashu'ka nodded, and Fade pressed herself to the wall, awaiting her chance. As he moved into the room, she turned and fled past him, robes flying behind her wildly. He turned, bow raised and shouted at Othara that one was making a run for it. Othara turned, shooting with great skill, the poisioned arrow flying straight through her shoulder from behind. She didn't stop, continuing her running, until she had breathed her first breath of fresh air that she had had in more than a decade. Her wounded shoulder trailed blood as she hobbled along, her shaft of the arrow still firmly in place, tip out in front, feathers in the back. She wandered like this for more than a day, until she came to a trail. She began to follow the trail, until she saw a gate. She slumped, knocking at the gate, then fell back, nearly dead from lack of food, blood, and the poision on the tip, as the gates were pushed open. Human hands caught her, but all she was aware of was of what appeared to be a fuzzy set of elven chain, colored the most horrid shadeo f purple, pressing against her cheek. She stayed in and out of consiousness, occasionally the bardess singing to her, always having to remind the feverish elf that her name was Erika. Fade never once spoke, never once looked directly into Erikas face, paling every time she saw the wound as the human young lady tended the badly torn shoulder. After a while, she began to respond, her voice, not used to talk, never rising above a soft whisper. She paled in embarassment each time she took a bath, the scars from years of beating and abuse in her head and on her body. She began to keep herself fully clad at all times that Erika was in the room, save for one smooth, uninteruppted arm. One night, as Erika lay sleeping on the cot she had set in the room, Fade slipped out, content on returning to the woods that was once her home. She did not feel honored enough to go back to her family, knowing what the drow had did t oher body, knowing she was now impure in the clans eyes. Instead, she stayed in the Velarswood near the human settlement , setting her own camp. Ten years later. Fade nodded expressionlessly to the priest of Shevarash. He had given her a new name, Belade. She was no longer the meek little girl she had been when the patrol of quissier had first found her there, outside the human city. She had traveled with them for many days now, learning their ways, their teachings. They had gone into the Night Below, their eyes growing accustomed to such things as the dark, damp caves. She had even had her scars healed by Othara, the priest. She grew accustomed to their ways, finding the thrill of hunting drow in the name of Shevarash a fullfilling past time, always vowing revenge for the things that had happened in her past. She had been reborn, she was no longer Fade, but Belade, a warrior, an archer. She started out of her daydreams of her past at the first shout. "Belade! Be at ready!" she nodded, then settled back down. They had traveled for many days now without sign of the creatures known as Dark Elves. Suddenly her eyes flew open as a small bolt struck her in the left eye.She fells asleep as the poison dart took effect, not knowing how horribly her face had been destroyed. She awoke some time later, her eye heavily bandaged, her hands stretched painfully above her head. Her first thought was fear.. not again.. she could not live again with yet another drow capture.. not face the shame that was to come. She lifted her head painfully, looking around and blinking with one eye as she beheld her cell. The other two females in her patrol were much in the same position as she, tied and bound, heavily wounded. The men were strung in the center of the room, their throats slit, their blood slipping from their necks. The priest Othara's dead eyes looked at her with a certian amount of accusations. She should have listened, been prepared... A decade later she had moved on from having to sit in a cell all day, to having the freedom that a slave did, her eyes always down, her one eye now dead and useless to her. She was first bound as a rothe was, with a yoke strung across her neck, giving her limited movement. Then she was merely bound with a chain around her neck, and a symbol of a house buried deep in her face, covering her dead eye, magically binding her to this place. Then finally, only the symbol. She watched oneday, as a couple of the slaves from the pleasure district caused a fuss, the guards rushing to them. She took her chance and ran for the gates, slipping past and diving into a cave. She waited for a soft count of ten before she grabbed her rusted dagger, forcefully slipping the blade under her skin and removing the small golden statue of the spider. She barely grunted as she did such, then lifted a hand to her bloody eye, using the rags that were her clothing to staunch the bleeding. She wandered for many days after that.. eventually once more finding the surface. Looking around she reckonized the woods she was in. She was in the Velarswood, near the place she used to call home. Stats: '''Heights: About five foot four Weight: About one hundred twenty, fairly toned. Skin: Slightly pale from keeping covered, her body lined in scars. Hair: Long, blond, nearly to the ground. She keeps it pulled back carefully. Eyes: Peircing Green Clothing: She favors either dark or forrest colored clothing, usually covering her body from head to toe. General Personality: Shy as can be. does not make eye contact, speaks in little more than a whisper. Portrait http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e31/linnatha/fade2.jpg Current Information Currently Fade is staying in Elventree or roughly around it in the woods, as she is not comfortable in a 'city' setting. She has found someone who loves her despite her faults, someone she has felt a caring for for a long time. Ian. With him quite a bit, she would give her own life for him. She hides in elventree, under his guard, as a feind is after her, for taking it's eye. Rillifane and Shevarash: Rillifane Rallathil The Leaf lord Intermediate Elven Deity Symbol: Oak tree Home Plane: Arvandor Alignment: Chaotic good Portfolio: Woodlands, nature, wild elves, druids Worshipers: Druids, rangers, wild elves Cleric Alignments: CG, CN, NG Domains: Chaos, Elf, Good, Plant, Protection Favored Weapon: "The Oakstaff" (quarterstaff) Dogma: The Great Oak draws energy from all the living creatures of the world and nourishes, sustains, and protects them from outside threats. Live in harmony with the natural world, allowing each living being the opportunity to serve out its natural purpose in life. As the Leaflord's countless branches, his faithful are to serve as his mortal agents in the natural world. Defend the great forests from those who would ravage their riches, leaving only destruction in their path. Contest both the quick and the slow death of Rillifane's bounty and hold strong like the great oaks in the face of those who can see only their own immediate needs. SHEVARASH: The Black Archer, the Night Hunter (Elven Demigod) Symbol: Broken arrow above a teardrop Home Plane: Arvandor Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Portfolio: Hatred of the drow, vengeance, crusades, loss Worshipers: Arcane archers, archers, elves, fighters, hunters, rangers, soldiers, sorcerers Cleric Alignments: CE, CG, CN Domains: Chaos, Elf, Retribution, War Favored Weapon: "The Black Bow" (longbow) DOGMA: The greatest enemy of the Seldarine is Lolth, who sought the corruption of Arvandor and the overthrow of the Creator of the Elves. The greatest enemy of the Fair Folk is the drow, the debased followers of the Spider Queen who long ago were enmeshed in her dark web. Redemption and revenge may be achieved through the utter destruction of the drow and the dark deities they serve. Only then may the joy of life begin anew. Hunt Fearlessly! Birthday Information for Fade Latoner Age 120 in 1374 Born 29 Uktar, 1254 DR. Year of Silent Steel Born under the Sign of the Butterfly and with Gibbous Selûne under the sign of the Serpent Those born under the sign of the Butterfly are restless, sociable and good natured. Cheerful, expansive and magnetic, they win friends easily and dislike offending others. Although often indecisive, they are not weak willed and tackle difficult tasks with infectious optimism. Those born with Selûne under the sign of the Serpent have good memories and are articulate, strong willed and resourceful, emotional and enigmatic. They have quick responses and are prone to sudden mood changes. Category:PC